Sunday, 14 November 1999

The Dancing Princess

On the rooftop of her castle,
She dances gracefully into the night.
Gazing wondrously at the heavens,
Praying for something with all her might.
And I had almost heard her whispers
Had she not beheld my sight.
Still, mark me as I say this,
It was of some aweful plight.
And yet she dances on, she dances,
Dances gracefully through the night.
And the pillars, and the columns,
Throughout her castle, stand upright!
They tell the tales, hold the memories
Of the girl who dances through the night.
I hear them speak to her, overtly,
Telling her, It will be alright!
Out strength and rigidity will protect you
Should any harm come into sight!
Fear not the harshest weathers
That unsuspectingly come in flight!
We, the columns, with your walls
Will for that battle, fight your fight!
And as she listens, she envisions
A devastation of the site
That one would think was yet to come
But yesterday had caused its fright.
Still, at that thought, she does not quiver,
Nor is she bitter or full of spite.
She simply dances on, she dances,
Swiftly off into the night.
Awakened now by the sound of o’erlapping whispers
Cloaked by smiles, and of her plight,
She opens up her eyes to see
Them staring – their positions holding tight.
And the millions of ignorant eyes
Observe intently, that she takes flight
From their view; races upstairs
To the rooftop to see the night.
To dance freely among the stars
Underneath the soft moonlight.
Dancing, dancing
Peacefully in the night.
Yet, now below the Earth is rumbling
And sending tremors to commence a fight.
And outside the winds are raging;
Clouds concealing all the light.
And she hears a quiet cracking
From somewhere not within her sight.
A soft whistling soon accompanies
Her possessions being thrown left and right!
And still she does not quiver,
Nor is she bitter, nor full of spite.
The castle’s come down times before
On many nights much like this night.
And she knows they can’t protect her
And she feels that it’s alright.
The pillars, they are old and weak,
and weaken more from light to light.
Her walls: frail, hollow, yet beautiful.
Yes, it is quite a deceiving sight.
And still she dances on, she dances
Dances gracefully into the night.
Focused intently on the heavens
Hoping for the day she takes her flight.
So that she continues, never halting
Wishing, praying with all her might
For milder winds and softer tremors
To instead disturb her peaceful night.
That on one day, she, at least
Will have endured the most destructive fight -
To have found the strength within herself,
and still be standing when comes the light.

Wednesday, 12 May 1999

Autumn Sunset in the Park

By Carolyn Ursabia (circa 1999)

[This was about my break-up with my first boyfriend.]

I’ve witnessed the rises and sets of many suns,
Spent, contemplating the past
Minutes, hours, days
That turn into years
And I find myself back here
Upon the same place
Where history came to pass.
Oh the memories that lie within 
This withered an aged exterior.

I close my eyes but to hear
Gentle whispers of words once spoken
Into my ears from his lips;
The accompagnato of seagulls ‘cries o’ertop cars passing;
And the warmth of the sun on my skin.
That I reawaken into a time, a place - a world -
That doesn't exist.
As the past does not exist.
It is only in our minds that it exists.
Nothing tangible, nothing that is fact
Nothing to touch, see, or hear.
It is sometimes depicted in a picture, poem, or music,
And yet, never completely.

For our memories are biased
Only there to taunt us
And convince us that their existence is real
Each and every time we close our eyes…
Yet also to make us smile,
There to make us cry,
To recall the pain that has faded.
To reminisce about the love that didn't last,
To find ourselves unable to let go
Standing, but again, upon the scene
Where everything took place –
But didn't
Because memories don’t exist.
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